She had never before heard the noise of firecrackers, and in the beginning the sputtering racket caused her to wince. The body of Jack Sheppard, meanwhile, was borne along by that tremendous host, which rose and fell like the waves of the ocean, until it approached the termination of the Edgeware Road. He then mounted the jaded hack, which had long since regained its legs, and was quietly browsing the grass at the road-side, and, striking spurs into its side, rode off. “I will take a carriage,” she said, “and fetch my things. Lucy arranged her hair as Michelle had taught her instead of combing it out. He glanced up.
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